For my husband, I gave everything.

My time, my efforts, my body, and my heart.

In the end, all I received in return was betrayal.

Even then, I wanted our relationship to work. I tried my best to mend it because I still loved him despite his betrayal.

However, my attempt to fix our relationship was for nought.

My husband would continuously seek out his mistress and make love to her. Sometimes right under my nose.

It didn’t take long for my sadness to turn into jealousy which slowly morphed into anger.

In a fit of rage, I unintentionally harmed his mistress when I saw her in our home unaware that she was with child. I was infertile so this meant that this mistress was carrying my husband’s first child.

Naturally, after my husband found out, he was furious at me.

He threw the divorce papers at my face and ruthlessly kicked me out of the house. Not once did he think about all that I had done for him over the years.

I fell into depression and confined myself to my room at a cheap apartment I rented. There was no one to comfort me since my parents only ever loved my older brother and my friends were only friends with me on the surface. Plus, they all had their own families to take care of.

Eventually, I decided to end my life.

With no proper qualifications and no work experience other than being a housewife, naturally, it was nearly impossible for me to find a suitable job.

My unpaid bills were piling higher each day as was my depression.

With nothing left to live for, I made a decision.

I wanted to end my life.

And so I did.

Opening a bottle of sleeping pills, I emptied it into my hand and tossed them in my mouth.

I died on a rainy day, alone in my apartment. My body probably wouldn’t be found until several days later once the neighbours begin to smell something.

I doubt there would be anyone truly mourning at my funeral.

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Honestly, I don’t really care anymore.

I’m just tired.

So please, God, let me be at peace.

----------------------------------------

I woke up in the body of a young 4-year-old girl.

The thought of transmigration had never crossed my mind before until I experienced the phenomenon myself. I admit that I was a little surprised at first but later, I accepted my new reality pretty easily.

The new world I was in was similar to the novels I used to read with a European historical setting.

There were kingdoms, Kings and Queens, knights in shining armour, nobles, and commoners.

I was born into a noble household as the third oldest daughter and the legitimate oldest daughter.

My father was a council member of the King’s court and the second son of a Duke. He had an official wife, which was my mother, and two other concubines who birthed my two older sisters. I also had a full-blooded older brother and two half-blooded younger brothers.

As the legitimate daughter, my position in the household was good.

Both my father and mother treated me well and doted on me. Although they weren’t my first parents, I loved them much more because I could tell that they actually cared for me - unlike my previous parents.

Since I was already 32-years-old when I transmigrated over, I had a mature mindset and did my best not to cause trouble with others.

In order to minimise possible conflicts with my half-siblings, I made sure to never cross paths with them and kept to myself.

I, who had no interesting skills from my previous life, learned several skills when I turned 5.

I practised sewing, painting, and piano playing.

In this world and in this era, women were not permitted to learn the same subjects as men as their roles were only to manage the household and bear children.

As a person from the 21st century, I felt a little aggrieved at first when I realised this but later on, I accepted it. Not because I agreed with it but because I knew it would be easier to survive if I just followed the rules. I’m not some strong female protagonist who has the confidence to change the world.

Sorry to say, I am just a coward.

The world will definitely change one day but for now, adapting to the norm is more likely to guarantee me a peaceful life. At least, in my opinion it will.

Besides, I was already accustomed to being a housewife.

I knew that my fate was to be married off to another household of equal standing and I didn’t mind it. My experience with a marriage starting from feelings ended badly but an arranged marriage would be different.

I won’t give my heart away to a stranger nor will I let myself be overwhelmed with passionate feelings.

I don’t mind being an obedient wife. So long as my destined husband does not physically harm me, I will not complain.

To others, this sort of mindset might feel weak and cowardly. And to be fair, it is. However, everyone has their own ways to survive. This is my way.

…Because I don’t know better.